


Surprise.

by hajne



Category: Columbine - Fandom, Historical Criminals RPF, True Crime - Fandom
Genre: Bondage, Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death Threats, Depression, Homophobia, Humiliation, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Rape, Sadism, Unrequited Love, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29726667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hajne/pseuds/hajne
Summary: Dylan loves Eric. Eric rapes Dylan.
Relationships: Eric Harris/Dylan Klebold
Comments: 19
Kudos: 22





	Surprise.

**Author's Note:**

> This fiction contains rape, violence, mental health issues, and it’s overall disgusting. If that or any of the tags (or the fandom itself) makes you uncomfortable, please, do not read.
> 
> LOOKING FOR A BETA

Dry dirt crunched under Dylan's feet as he dragged them down the abandoned street. A walk to clear his head had been a good excuse to get out of the house before his parent would leave for… wherever they were heading. He hadn’t been listening, he scarcely was, and it didn’t matter. An empty house just wouldn’t ask him questions. Like why he was so pale, his eyes so puffy, circles under them so dark. Why he wouldn’t eat. _‘We're here for you, you can tell us anything, okay?'_

He’d been wandering the streets for an eternity, forcing one foot in front of the other. The world had gone gray, then dark. The streetlights somehow hadn’t gone on. Each time his sadistic brain brought up _that_ name felt like a kick in the gut. _His_ gaze, _his_ smirk, but especially _his_ endless rambling on about girls. Not about them, actually - just their bodies. _'Maybe I should cut her head of first'_ , Eric had once said, _'so she won't fight back. I'd miss the screams, though.'_ Nice.

Too bad Dylan had a head. And also, you know, a dick, which he’d been pumping way too often to the mental image of mental Eric. And although Eric was acting as if straining to make it as hard as possible for anyone to fall in love with him, in Dylan’s case, he had failed. Dylan had known it all, he knew Eric was a psychopath, probably only using him, lying to him, manipulating… That he’d step on his corpse if it meant being higher. But Dylan still wanted to lie with him on a bed of flowers, making love gently, and raise a puppy together. What the fuck.

His feet somehow brought him back home, and the moment he saw their dark empty house, he just _knew_ this was going to be one of those nights when he’d cry till he’d vomit. He didn’t have much else going on anyway.

He entered the merciful silence and dragged himself upstairs. Maybe he’d take out that bottle of vodka he’d been saving and drink into unconsciousness. Or death.

He opened his door and switched the light on. He still had those pills, maybe if he mixes it with-

_  
“Surprise."_

Dylan almost had a heart attack. Eric was lounging on his bed, beaming like a fucking sunshine. 

“Jesus! How the fuck did you get in?”

“Your _mommy_ let me in,” he replied, the word sounding like a slur. He had his boots on. “Like _an hour_ ago. I’m surprised she let me wait here, though. I think she hates my guts but she's too polite to show it. Or maybe there’s something pissing her off more?”

“I...I don't know?”

Eric slowly sat up, his eyes locking Dylan in place. “Like her little boy being a _fag_?”

“How…“ was all he managed to say.

To Dylan’s horror, Eric reached behind the pillow and took out a worn-out black notebook. His journal. “ _'I can never tell him, I’m not a girl, he'll never fall for me,”_ he read out loud in a high-pitched voice. _“ ’We'll never have our halcyon. Just suffering, my whole life is suffering.'"_

An ice-cold hand grasped Dylan’s insides. “That's personal! You're such a cunt!” He tried to seize the journal, but Eric held it out of his reach.

“At least I'm not a fag.” Eric watched him with glee, obviously thrilled to torture him.

How fucked up must one be to fall in love with such a dick. “Gimme that.”

“No, this is golden, really. _‘My love for him will never die, perhaps I should die’._ God, pathetic much?”

Hearing his own words read out loud made him cringe. “Fuckin’ give it to me”

“Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you.”

A slap landed on Eric’s cheek.

  
When he turned back to Dylan, his eyes were as red as his face. “Hell no, you fucking bitch.”

  
Eric dropped the journal, and in a split second, he shoved Dylan onto the bed, head first, and Dylan landed on his stomach with a groan.

“Fuck off, get away from me-“

Dylan tried to get up, but his face fell back onto the pillow as Eric grabbed his wrists and folded them behind his back. Dylan's nose was smashed painfully against the pillow and he couldn’t breathe before he managed to turn his head aside.

“Let me go!!” he shouted over his shoulder. “I’m gonna fuckin-“

Eric stuffed something into his mouth. A sock probably, given the odor. “No, you’re not,” he chuckled, panting.

He shoved it so deep into his mouth it almost made him vomit. Dylan tried to spit it out and yank his hands free, but Eric firmly tied them behind his back with something. The tight grasp on his wrists fully woke him to what was happening. He yelped, but there was no one to hear him, and he writhed, but his movements came to a halt under Eric’s weight as he straddled the back of his thighs. Sitting down comfortably. Wherever he was going with this, he wasn’t rushing there.

  
Dylan heard as he unscrewed some cap, probably on his metal flask - had he been drinking?

“You know…”, Eric started contemplatively after gulping the liquid, “I should’ve known sooner. You scream ‘queer’ from miles away. But I gotta say, I kinda had a hunch since that trip to the lake. Remember?”

Dylan was still trying to wriggle free, spitting unintelligible curses into the sock stuffed in his mouth, but he remembered. He’d been bringing the memory back way too often: Eric almost naked, the wet fabric clinging to the curve of his ass and his… It was back then when he had started to hate himself.

 _“Remember?!”_ Eric pulled him closer by his hair. Dylan wailed.

Eric dropped his head back into the pillow. “You have some awful manners, y’know. Your dumb mother raised a piece of shit. But I’ll take that as a yes. Where was I... oh yeah, the trip.” Eric snickered at the memory. “Not even that fugly swimsuit could hide you’re hard. You thought I didn’t see it? Did you wank afterward? Were you like… like… _Ohhh, Eric?"_ Eric burst into outright laughter.

Dylan tried to seize the opportunity to shake him off but even laughing, his thighs were pinning him down firmly.

Eric’s thighs.

Was this going to be one of Eric’s gore fantasies on which he gorges when he‘s drunk and full of rage? Jesus. He’d known that Eric’s a ticking bomb, a fucking sadist, saying that fags are unnatural and deserve death, but he’d hoped he’d hurt _him_ , Eric was his best friend for fuck’s sake, a psycho one, but still a friend-

_Eric's thighs._

“I assumed you were just desperate because no girl would suck your dick,” Eric continued, resting the flask on Dylan’s asscheek. “I would totally get that, you and me both, man... That’s why I’m here, after all. But you really meant all of that, didn't you? _‘Eric is my soulmate'?_ You’re pathetic.”

Dylan squeezed his eyes shut. He hated him so much, so fucking much, but he was right, he was pathetic-

A sharp clink cut through his thoughts. Eric threw the flask on the floor and yanked at Dylan's hair again, eliciting a muffled yelp. His breath was warm on Dylan's ear as he leaned forward, his voice suddenly an octave lower. _“I'm gonna fuck you.”_

  
Dylan’s eyes widened. Fuck no, no no no, _not like this_ -

He tugged at the bond around his wrists, but it only sank deeper into his skin, he whined-

“Whoa, someone’s eager to get it! Okay, okay… Your wish…,” Eric chuckled, “…is my command.”

Eric’s weight lifted and Dylan squeaked as Eric forced him to bend his knees a little, hoisting up his lower body. In one harsh motion, he pulled Dylan’s pants down along with his boxers, burning the sides of his thighs. Shame screamed through Dylan’s body at the touch of the cold air.

“I have to say, you’ve got a pretty ass.” Eric gave the flesh a loud smack.

Dylan whimpered and his eyes watered, it was not supposed to be like this, with Eric’s venom filling the air, crushing him down -

“Dyl, Dyl… you little bitch,” Eric almost sang and unzipped his own pants. “ You little… little…” The chuckles turned into grunts as he was pumping his cock, holding Dylan down with his other hand.

Tears rolled down Dylan’s cheeks, and he wanted to beg, to explain, to bargain - hell, he’d do anything else, just not this, not like that - if he could just speak-

  
Eric spat.

Dylan screamed into the fabric as Eric shoved his fingers into him unceremoniously, a flash of pain shot through his body, and he wanted to run away from those fingers, from Eric, from his own body-

“God, you've done this before, huh?” Eric panted, moving his fingers. “That's what you're up to when you say you gotta stay home, doing chores? Fingering your ass, thinking about me?”

 _Yes._ Dylan shook his head frantically, sobbing-

“Well, today’s your lucky day.”

  
Eric's cock replaced the fingers and Dylan cried into the fabric, Eric didn’t even push all the way in, but the stretch and the burning almost made him faint-

“Fuck, your pussy’s so tight..."

Firm hands grabbed his hips, and Eric buried himself in him to the root, Dylan banged head against the pillow, wailing and squirming-

“…am I popping your cherry after all?” 

Eric added some more spit. Another thrust, another tear running down the cheek, soaking into the pristine white pillow, another choked up yelp -

Eric pressed his face down. “Shut up, you love this.”

It was so wrong, wrong, wrong, Dylan wanted to disappear, but every Eric’s burning thrust shoved him back into the awful _now_ , and Dylan hated it, he hated Eric, he hated himself - for who he was, for the sole fact that he existed, for who he loved- but mainly for the fact that he was getting hard as Eric kept hitting his prostate, his claws digging into his hips - god, he’s really sick, he really deserves this -

A small moan soaked into the fabric.

“No fucking way!” Eric laughed and groped for Dylan’s crotch, squeezing his hard-on. “Bitch wants it harder?”

Dylan squealed, shaking his head like mad, the touch of Eric’s hand making him nauseous -

Eric fully withdrew only to slam back in with a force that would knock Dylan off the bed if Eric wasn’t clutching his hips, and Dylan thrashed about, the sock soaking with tears and spit and sobs and screams, he was probably bleeding -

“Oh Dylan… my love!” Eric shouted out, nearly collapsing on Dylan's back with breathy chuckles, and that was it, those words drove Dylan to gather all the strength left to tip him over, but Eric just snarled and tugged at his hair, yanking some out of his scalp-

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled into his ear. “I’m trying to give you a good time and this is the thanks I get?!”

Eric clapped his palm over Dylan's gagged mouth and fingers pinched his nose, cutting off Dylan's air supply altogether. He resumed his pace, fucking him hard, and Dylan was suffocating, writhing, _this is it, this is how he dies,_ he tried to wrench himself free, tried, tried, but failed-

“All that whining about suicide…” Eric panted, “…and now you don’t wanna die?”

Dylan’s struggling under him was really doing it for him, he set a bestial pace, and Dylan felt like dying, dying, dying, and when that hand finally slid away (because of clumsiness, not mercy), he gasped for breath and didn’t dare fighting back anymore, just trembled and shook with Eric’s thrusts, so violated, so full, so hard… in hell, and so alone.

Eric grunted, buried himself in Dylan with one last vicious shove, and spilled inside him, bruising his hips.

Dylan didn’t even care that it was finally over. He just wished Eric had suffocated him a little longer and he’d be dead by now.

Eric pulled out and his weight disappeared.

Dylan collapsed on his stomach, swallowing a grunt as his cock pressed against the mattress. He shut his eyes and tried not to exist.

Sounds of Eric adjusting his pants. Zipping them.

A touch on his wrist: Eric's fingers undoing the buckle. It had been a belt. Then the fingers withdrew. "You know what, keep it. I wouldn't use it anymore anyway."

A touch on his face, and this time Dylan's eyes opened: Eric’s flushed face with a little smile on his lips and none in his eyes was not familiar at all. He started pulling the sock out of his mouth, slowly, as if to see whether Dylan would start screaming. No fear just amused curiosity.

Dylan did not scream.

"If you’ll talk", Eric whispered gently, his thumb stroking his cheek, "I'll kill you, my love. And you know I've killed before, so...,” a soft chuckle, “…so yeah, if I were you, I'd believe me.”

Dylan did. There was nothing not to believe.

Eric watched him for another second before he got up, and picked up his flask from the floor to put it in his pocket. Next to it lied Dylan's journal. He tossed it onto Dylan's half-naked form, scratching his ass cheek.

"Burn it. It's disgusting."

He left. 

Some twisting of his wrists against his back and Dylan eventually worked his hands free of the half-undone belt. It fell on the floor with a dull clank, along with the journal. The ache in his wrists and shoulders blended with the rest.

The wet dirty sock was lying next to his head on the pristine white pillow. His own. Mom was right, he shouldn't leave them lying around.

His arms flung to grip the edge of the bed, he leaned over the side and threw up on the floor. Not much. He hadn't been eating.

He wiped his mouth on the pillow.

  
Shaking, Dylan got up, and some sperm leaked on his inner thigh. Fingers trembling, he put on his pants and sat down only to stare onto the floor. He was still hard.

Dylan got up again and walked to the closet.

Opened it.

Hands steady, he took out his shotgun.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece of fiction, I do not condone any criminal/immoral acts. 
> 
> Let me know if you enjoyed it. I was left with mixed feelings.


End file.
